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Penelope Featherington was engaged to Lord Debling. The proposal had been unexpected and devoid of any romanticism. After requesting Portia's permission, he bumped into Penelope in the hallway and, with a nervous but determined gesture, asked her to marry him. His confident gaze promised a way out of her mother’s oppressive house, and Portia’s expectant look over her shoulder forced Penelope to smile and nod briefly. Thus, without thinking too much about it, she accepted a decision that would change her life.
Portia, excited, chattered about how right her choice was. "Lord Debling has estates, a huge house, and you will travel in splendid carriages. He will offer you a comfortable life with thousands of pounds a year," she said, her eyes gleaming with triumph.
"Plus, he travels a lot. I know you'll appreciate that because you love your space and reading your books. My Pen, my little Penelope, is getting married!" Portia bit her lip in happiness as she took her daughter's hands and guided her around the room, already imagining the impact of the news on society. "This will elevate the Featheringtons' status. I can already picture the Cowpers' faces when they find out about your engagement!" she exclaimed, caressing Penelope's cheek and leaving the room beaming.
Alone, Penelope looked at the ring: a thick, simple gold band that was a bit loose on her finger. Lord Debling had promised to bring the jeweler to adjust it. He was handsome, but he lacked soul—an exact reflection of the life that awaited her with him: simple, secure, without passion. Stable. That would be all. Colin's lessons had done their job, but she couldn't help thinking about him... and his kiss.
That kiss.
She remembered it with a clarity that made her shudder. Colin's hands had framed her face with warmth and firmness that made her feel precious, almost sacred. There were pauses, moments when he searched her gaze to ensure she was okay, and in those tense seconds, there was an intensity that made her feel alive like never before. And then, the kiss. Small, but deep, it had ignited a fire within her.
Colin's aroma—a mix of freshly brewed coffee and the sweets he used to eat—had enveloped her in a feeling of familiar warmth. His soft lips contrasted with the firmness of his arms that held her as if he were afraid to let her go. Even the beat of his heart resonated in her ears, keeping time with hers, creating a melody that seemed to belong only to them. She had felt the urge to tangle her fingers in his hair, to deepen the moment, but shame had stopped her.
Now, engaged to another man, she regretted not having done so. What would it be like to kiss someone who loves you and whom you love too? Colin's kiss had awakened a curiosity and passion in her that she couldn't ignore. Doubt consumed her: would she feel the same with Lord Debling’s kisses? Or would she feel nothing?
The golden shine of the ring reflected the light of the room, but also the knot that formed in her stomach. The life that awaited her with Lord Debling felt like a predictable path, devoid of surprises, while the memory of Colin was a torrent of emotions that overwhelmed her. Every time she thought about the kiss, she wondered if she had made the right decision.
"Penelope, we must get ready for the dance tonight! What happiness, all my married daughters! We must wear the emerald jewelry, the ones we inherited from my grandmother..." Portia continued chattering, her voice filled with pride. For her, this was a dream come true: all her daughters married, and her expectations finally fulfilled. She even accepted the plight of Lord Debling, who had requested that the wedding take place in three weeks. Whether she wanted it or not, Penelope would soon be Mrs. Debling.
Lord Debling had been clear. There was little time left before his next trip, and he wanted to show her around his home and teach her how to run the house before he left. He had planned a honeymoon in Ireland, after which he would depart, leaving Penelope the freedom he believed she desired. But was that what she wanted? Doubts began to suffocate her.
Looking in the mirror, Penelope contemplated her reflection. A stranger was looking back at her. She was engaged! In three weeks, she would leave her mother's house. She should feel happy. But the feelings swirling in her stomach ignored all logic. She felt restless, insecure, and alone. There was no turning back; canceling the engagement would be an unforgivable scandal. Her mother would die of shame and humiliation.
Over and over, she tried to remind herself that Lord Debling was a good man. He would offer her security and space. But every time she closed her eyes, it wasn't him who appeared in her mind. It was Colin. Always Colin. She thought she was over her crush. Childish, perhaps, but it was difficult for her to ignore what her body and heart were asking for.
At the ball, she had met Lord Debling, who formally but smilingly kissed her hand and signed the dance card for a waltz and a quadrille. He looked handsome: his blonde hair well-combed and his beard neatly trimmed. She knew inherently that he didn't love her, but she had faith that perhaps, over time, love could grow.
As he led her in the waltz, Penelope found the courage to ask, "My lord, I know that our engagement is not born of love. I know there is respect, and I hope to find friendship on your part, but I keep wondering if you think that perhaps... with time, love could grow between us?"
She asked him, blushing and looking at him shyly. He smiled at her, but his response dispelled her hopes. He believed it was not possible since his work occupied his entire heart. However, he was glad to know that she didn't need love to lead a full life.
That made her blood run cold. Feeling herself pale, she hid her overreaction with a small smile. That gesture was enough to bury her hopes. She would have to learn to be happy without the expectation of romantic love. With that thought, she let herself be guided and took a glass of lemonade. The rest of the evening passed in a blur. She thought she saw Colin and his family at the edge of the dance floor, but her shock prevented her from being sure.
Why had she rushed to accept the engagement?
It was midnight, and the air was thick with humidity, filled with the sweet, earthy aroma of night flowers. Penelope had gone out in search of fresh air, fleeing from the expectant glances and smiles that did not reach her eyes. The simple cotton vest that was her pale-yellow pajamas clung to her body with every breeze, and dew began to accumulate on the edges of her skirt. Her fingers brushed the petals of a newly bloomed rose, seeking to anchor herself to something tangible, when she heard it.
"I knew I'd find you here."
Colin's voice, low and raspy, cut through her like a whisper meant to break her. She didn't have to turn around to recognize it. The warmth of his presence filled the air, a searing contrast to the marble coldness of the nearby fountain.
"What are you doing here?" she asked, barely turning her face, her voice trembling but firm.
"I couldn't stay away without seeing you, without talking to you."
She turned around completely, and there he was, illuminated only by the moon. His eyes, dark and bright, seemed to beg for something that words could not express. His slightly disheveled hair and unbuttoned coat made him look vulnerable.
"Colin, you shouldn't be here."
"I know. But I also shouldn't see you promise your life to another man, and here I am, breaking all the rules."
His words cut through her like an icy blade. She felt the lump in her throat grow as Colin stepped closer, the crunch of gravel under his boots echoing in the stillness of the night.
"What? What are you...?" she tried to ask, but he interrupted her.
"I can't stand this, Pen. Seeing you with him, imagining you calling him 'husband'..." His voice broke, and for a moment, Colin's mask of strength crumbled. "I know I'm not what you deserve. I am the third son, without fortune, title, or purpose. Just your friend. But..."
The silence that followed was deafening. Penelope felt like the whole world was holding its breath next to her.
"But I love you. I think I've loved you all my life and never realized it. Since our kiss, my life has been filled with confusing dreams about you... and about that kiss. You consume every moment and thought of my life; you have filled my world with color and fantasies. The feeling is so strong that it consumes me. I can't eat, I can't talk, I can't live in peace."
Penelope's heart raced. The words floated between them, raw and naked, like a newly opened wound. She wanted to say something, anything, but her body wouldn't obey her.
"I know it's selfish. But I needed to tell you. I know your mother wants something better for you, someone better. And that you deserve it too. But if you've ever felt me close to your heart, if we've ever shared anything real..." Colin closed his eyes, his chest rising and falling rapidly as if the words cost him every breath. "Give me one night. Just tonight."
The plea in his voice was like a dagger. Penelope felt the trembling in her own hands, tears gathering in her eyes.
"And then?" she murmured, her voice a thread.
"I'll leave later. Soon I will be far away, so far that you will never have to see me again. But tonight... just tonight, I beg you, let me believe it's us. That I am the one for you, that our destiny could have been different."
Penelope wanted to scream, to tell him that he couldn't be so cruel, that he couldn't ask her for this. Not when her heart was already breaking, not when she had always loved him and waited for him, not when she had finally found her way out and done the right thing—what was expected of her. But instead, she looked at him, her eyes conveying everything she and Colin didn't dare say.
The wind lifted a strand of her hair, and Colin shakily reached out a hand to brush it away. His touch was light, barely a caress, but it set off every nerve in her body.
"Please, Penelope," he whispered, leaning against her cheek and whispering, "Give me tonight. Give me one last night by your side."
The silence that followed Colin's words was heartbreaking. Penelope felt the entire world holding its breath next to her as if the universe itself didn't know which direction to take. The weight of his gaze kept her anchored in place, unable to move, unable to decide.
"Colin... I can't..." Her voice broke as she tried to say what reason dictated, but before she could finish, he took her hands in his.
His fingers were warm and rough, as if his adventures had left invisible scars. The simple touch sent a flood of emotions through her body: longing, confusion, fear.
"I'm not asking you to give up everything, Penelope," Colin said, his voice a whisper barely above the chirping of the crickets. "Just... let me give you this memory, something that belongs to both of us before everything changes."
She looked at him, searching his eyes for a reason to walk away, but all she found was love. A love that had always been there, hidden between jokes, knowing looks, and silences full of meaning. The warmth of that love enveloped her, and for a moment, she forgot everything else.
"It's okay," she whispered, so quietly she was almost afraid he wouldn't hear.
But Colin did. She saw it in the way his shoulders relaxed, in the gleam in his eyes so intense it almost made her recoil. Before she could hesitate, he led her down the gravel path to a hidden corner of the garden, where tall bushes and rose bushes formed a natural shelter.
The moon filtered through the branches, painting silver shadows on the grass. Colin looked at her, studying her as if he wanted to memorize every detail: the small curve of her smile, the way her red hair shone in the moonlight, the way her eyes reflected a mix of desire and melancholy.
"You're so beautiful, Penelope," he said, his voice breaking at the end.
Before she could respond, he leaned in and brushed his lips against hers. It was a soft kiss, full of care and reverence as if he were afraid to break her. But soon, control gave way to passion, and the kiss became deeper, more urgent.
Penelope felt his arms wrap around her, pulling her closer to him as if he wanted to merge with her. Her heart was pounding, so much so that she thought he could hear it. Colin's familiar scent enveloped her: a trace of coffee, leather, and something indescribably his.
Time seemed to stop as their lips met again and again, exploring each other, discovering each other. But alongside the euphoria, there was an underlying sadness and despair that she couldn't ignore. Each kiss was a reminder of the ephemeral nature of the moment, of the impossibility of their love.
When they finally broke apart, they were both breathing heavily. Colin rested his forehead against hers, closing his eyes as if he wanted to prolong the moment.
"I love you, Penelope," he whispered, his voice breaking. "I love you more than I have ever loved anything in my life."
She felt tears running down her cheeks, silent but relentless.
"I love you too, Colin. But it's not enough, right?"
He shook his head, unable to say anything else.
The garden was enveloped in a magical stillness. Penelope could hear the rustle of branches moving in the breeze, the distant sound of a stream, and the scrape of her footsteps on the grass. Every sound seemed amplified by the weight of Colin's confession.
He stood before her, his silhouette bathed in the pale moonlight. His eyes, normally full of sparkle and humor, were now an ocean of emotions: love, despair, sadness.
"Why now?" she whispered, her voice barely audible. It was not a question of reproach, but a surrender to the pain that threatened to consume her.
Colin took a step forward, closing the distance between them. His trembling hand rose to brush her cheek, wiping away a lone tear that slid down her skin.
"Because I'm a fool, Penelope. I didn't know how to see you in time. Because I love you so much it is killing me to think that you will belong to another. And because although I know that I am not what you deserve, I had to tell you. I didn't want to have even more regrets."
The words hit her chest like a hammer, knocking the breath out of her. Colin looked down, his fingers still on her skin, and then his lips found hers. It was a kiss loaded with everything they both felt but had never dared to say.
The world faded away. The feel of Colin's lips, warm and firm, erased all coherent thought. Penelope responded instinctively, clasping her hands behind his neck, clinging to him as if he were her lifeline.
When they separated, their foreheads pressed together, their breaths intertwined in the cold night air.
"What would have happened if... if things had been different?" she asked, her voice heavy with nostalgia.
Colin sighed and stroked her hair, tangling his fingers in her curls. "I would have written books for you, Pen. Stories of adventures, of love, of everything you never dared to dream of. I would have traveled the world with you, showing you the places you always wanted to see. I would have loved you like no one ever will. I adored you with all my being."
His words were daggers piercing her heart, each one deeper than the last. A muffled sob escaped her as she rested her head on his chest.
"And I..." she whispered, her voice shaking. "I would have taken care of you, of your anxieties. I would have given you a home, a family, and all my love."
They looked at each other again, their eyes communicating what words couldn't. There was no time for regrets, only to live that moment.
Time seemed to stop as they shared more kisses, caresses, and whispers. They talked about the dreams they would never fulfill together; about the lives they could have shared. They laughed softly through their tears when Colin promised, with his typical lightness, that he would have built a house with a library just for her, full of windows overlooking the garden.
But the sky began to lighten, and the cold of dawn reached them. The golden light touched the edges of the horizon, marking the end of their time together.
Colin pulled away, his eyes filling with tears. "I'll be leaving in two days, Penelope. I can't stay to see you with him. But I want you to know this: I will never stop loving you."
Penelope nodded, unable to speak. Her heart felt like it was being ripped out of her chest.
He took a step back, then another, his tears falling as he tried to maintain his composure. He cupped her face and kissed her deeply on the lips as if he wanted to merge with her. Then, determinedly, he sighed, kissed her forehead, and continued on his way.
She watched him turn and walk away, her shoulders shaking with every sob she tried to suppress. She knew she would always remember his broad back and messy hair like that.
Dawn spread slowly, bathing the garden in a warm, golden light. Penelope stood there, motionless, watching him disappear into the trees. Her heart was broken, but also full, because she had experienced a love that few people would ever know.
Finally, the garden fell silent, except for birds singing to greet the new day. Penelope wiped away her tears and returned home. Her face appeared serene, but inside, everything was falling apart. She knew she would never be the same. Although Colin was gone, his love would remain with her, their short, happy moment forever tattooed on her soul.